Fetal Position
by FattySkeleton
Summary: "I-I'm afraid." "Why?" "Because, you can hurt me, because everything can hurt me." "So kill yourself and never be afraid again, you'd get into Heaven." "I-I'm afraid that you're wrong." A story about a person's baseless fears finding foundation. OC
1. Decantophobia

The flashing lights nearly blinded me as I stood up on the stage. I was choking on my nerves, and I'm pretty sure that I was either stop light red or snow white. My hands were shaking and they felt like they had frost bite. I, I was terrified. I just wanted to run away and hide forever.

"Go on Alice! You can do it!" I stared, horrified at Lucy. Now they know my name! W-what if they follow me home? If they tell the landlady that they know 'Alice' then she'll let them in! Oh my god! I'm going to be rap-

The music starts and after listening to the same song for three months on eternal repeat, I began to sing. If only quietly.

"Maybe I'm the one

Maybe I'm the one

Who is, the schizophrenic psycho

Yeah

Maybe I'm the one

Maybe I'm the one

Who is, the schizophrenic psycho"

I clutched the microphone stand as I sang, closing my eyes and focusing on the music so I won't have to look at all of those people. So I could just pretend that I'm home infront of my bathroom mirror while the-

Oh, god. It wasn't working. Wh-what did my psychotrist tell me? To imagine that everyone's in their underwear? No, that just makes me feel like a pervert. She-she said to find one person in the crowd, one person who was watching me and to sing to them. To act like i knew them. That they were the one who I was threatening. That I was trying to make that one person lose their cool.

My eyes snapped open and I searched what little of the crowd that i could see. I saw plenty of people. Scantily dressed girls, beefy boys, goths, posers, but none of them were watching me. None of them were paying attention. None of them were fitting the bill i needed them to-

There. In the very back corner. A skinny tall boy, hunched over his table, watching me like i was going to disappear. His eyes were big and round and even from feet away i knew that they were black as hell. I screamed the last verse of the song at him. My sudden change of volume and fevor made many people turn toward me but I only focused on those eyes.

"You're the one

You're the one

Who is, the schizophrenic psycho."

You're the one

You're the one

Who is, the schizophrenic psycho."

After the music shut off there was a beat of pure silence. No one set down a drink, laughed at a joke, or blinked. But I was only focused on those hell black eyes that stared at me and almost demanded that I get up. That I come over there, and explain to him why exactly, I called him a schizophrenic psycho.

But then applause broke out and Lucy whooped the loudest and ran up to hug me. Lucy's arms closed over my neck and broke the eye contact that I had with the boy in the corner. I smiled sickly at her as I let her pull me off the stage. She immedatly stuck to her part of the deal. The deal that got me up on that stage in the first place, and took me home.

I wouldn't know until much later how she had saved me from certain death. But it was sort of her fault in the first place, I mean, she did pick that song.

But I was the one who yelled that at Johnny C.

**The song that I used was 'Psycho' by Puddle of Mudd.**


	2. Enochlophobia

"L-lucy, I don't think this is a good idea." I said fighting feebily to stay in my apartment. It had taken me forever to find one the perfect size. A size that won't cause me to hyperventalate every time I walked in. I was loath to leave it.

"Alice it's for you own good. We don't even have to go in any stores, you just have to spend your twenty minutes in a crowded area." She said happily, easily dragging me out of the door and locking every one of my many locks. "Why did I ever let you talk to my psychotrist?" I whined, watching her snap the locks, flinching at every click.

She looked over her shoulder at me and gave me a sweet smile before saying, "You didn't, I called her to make sure that you were doing what you were supposed to." She grabbed my hand, "And imagine my suprise when I learned that you had't been doing anything at all!"

As she pulled me out of my apartment building, I latched myself to her side. My hands were curled in her sweater like I was a scared three-year-old on his first day of school. I walked so close to her it was a suprise that we didn't fall over. Lucy didn't comment on how I had attached myself to her hip, she just drapped an arm over me and cooed at me like I was a frightened pet.

She led me to a bench and sat down, keeping me cuddled in her arms. I breathed deeply and evenly focusing all of my attention on the air cycling through my lungs. I shakily peeked out from Lucy's arms and took in my surroudings.

Oh god, there were people everywhere and they were all moving so fast, and what-what would happen if Lucy let me go? Would I get lost? Would they trample me? People have been crushed by crowds before, it happens all the time, oh, oh, oh-!

I see a flicker of black from the corner of my eye and turn toward it. I see a tall boy in a black outfit walking down the street, and I can't help but stare. He's barely got his eyes open as he walks like he's being stared at, shoulders hunched, head down. But he's not flinching like I would've. Every car that goes by, ignored, every too fast walker, ignored. It's like we're not here. No that's not right, it's like he's done this so many times, been stuck in the same routine that he can't be startled by anything anymore.

I watched him walk through the crowd, a feat I never could have done, and turn a corner. I stared at that corner for the rest of my twenty minutes. Lucy almost had to drag me away. I-I was afraid.

I was afraid of two things. I was afraid that if I didn't watch out for him then I would miss him. But more so, I was afraid that he would come back.

It wasn't till much later, that I recognized him as the boy I had sung to.

I had to take sleeping pills that night.


	3. Euphobia

**Euphobia**

I walked from my room, my hair damp from the shower. I was always afraid that I would get a cold but I didn't own a hair dryer, I mean I could get electrocuted!

I went to my kitchen and got out a water bottle from my refrigerator, humming gently. I made my way to my small living room and turned on the TV. It flipped on to a news channel.

"-murders. Another three bodies and names have been added to the ever growing list. The police have begun to suspect that a group of people, either a gang or a cult, are behind the murders and the missing persons instead of a serial killer."

"The most recent massacre had taken place at a Sunbucks. The one employee and two customers were brutally slaughtered. One customer was drowned in coffee while the other had both of his hands in blenders and a knife in his brain through his eye. The barista appeared to have been bludgeoned to death by a bag of POOP coffee beans."

"Stay tuned, we have pictu-"

The clatter of the remote on hard wood floor rang out like a gun in the silence. My numb hands had dropped it and only through luck had it hit the power button.

My sore lungs worked in overdrive as they pulled air in and pushed it back out in quick secession. My knees had long since given out and I had fallen back to my couch. I flinched at the dull 'Clunk' that my bottle made as it fell from my hand.

I curled my shaking legs up to my chest and instinctively went into the fetal position.

I didn't sleep until day light went through my curtains.


	4. Oneirophobia

_I was warm. I was comfortable. I was safe._

_There was a steady 'thump-thump' that surrounded me and beat through me. It was all I knew, all I relied on and all that I cared about. That steady beat was my sun, my moon, my air and my love. I was happy with it there._

_My beat stuttered. It missed a beat and picked up. I got a feeling of moveing quickly and the beating got faster and louder. It was begining to scare me._

_I felt my world shift abruntly and the beating got louder and faster. It just kept getting louder, louder, louder! I wanted it to go back to normal, to slow down, to be quieter, to just not be that scary! I wanted it to stop, stop, STOP!_

_It did. The beat stuttered and died and I was left floating in something I had never experianced. Silence. I didn't like it. It was too diffrent, too strange, too scary! I despretly wanted the beat back, anything to drown out this horrible quiet._

_My world loosened and peeled back and suddenly there was everything. There was noise, there was light, there was cold, wind, dirt, feel and it scared me. It frightened me so bad that I began to scream. I screamed and screamed and screamed._

_And then something touched me. Cold, thin, and rough. The things picked me up, taking me out of my world and bringing me fully into this scary one. They brought me up high and pressed me to a rough material that was scratchy and painful to my skin. I did my best to fight and get my self away from this-this monster. This monster that had ruined my world, but it continued to press me to itself and over my screaming I finally heard what it wanted me to._

_'Thump-Thump.'_

_It was a beat. It was the beat that I had wanted to bad in the silence._

_'Thump-Thump'_

_I was cold. I was uncomfortable. I was afraid. I was unsafe. But I heard that steady beat. I heard that beat and all of a sudden I had my moon, my sun, my air and my love back. I wasn't happy, but I felt comfort in it and I didn't care that it came from a monster, it was mine now._

I opened my eyes and stared at my ceiling.

"Wh-what kind of dream was that?" I asked it.

I didn't get an answer.

It would have terrifed me if I did.

**If you hadn't noticed, I'm starting to slowly dip into the plot now. Don't really expect longer chapters. But I will update once a week.**


	5. Xenophobia

I sat hunched down in my hard plastic chair waiting for my turn with the therapist. I used to have a personal therapist but then she quit because I had given her a complex. My parents had then decided to sign me up for a group therapist. I don't know why, but I was afraid to ask them.

I hunched down farther in my chair as the waiting room door opened with the jingle of bells. I focused on my hands as I heard the steady foot steps of whoever had entered. They got louder as they came toward me and I began to panic. I felt like a mouse hiding its eyes as a hawk flew over head. I felt like there was no escape and if I were to look at whoever had walked in then I would be killed. That I would be condemed. I was so scared.

I was frozen when the steps stopped infront of me and the shadow of death loomed over me. I could feel the ice cold gaze of whoever was infont of me trace over my body, periceing through my heavy clothing and hair to reach my flesh.

I stiffened even more when I heard them speak.

"Do I know you?"

The words were laced with confusion and bemusement, like he really didn't care if he knew me or not but that it was just something that tickled his fancy.

I was petrified, unable to move, unable to speak, and my breath whizzed through my clenched teeth.

"Are you going to answer me?" The words were now angry and accusing, like I had paided him a personal insult. I knew that in my scared state that I would be unable to answer him and that he would kill me, I was going to die, right here in this hard plastic chair waiting to see my therapist.

"Mr. Johnny C., please stop harrasing Miss Dutch, you're going to give her a heart attack."

Mr. C. was distracted from me and I mentally calmed even if my body showed no signs of it. I felt that if I moved then I would draw back his attention.

"Why won't she answer me? Does she have a problem with me?" Mr. C. growled in anger and annoyance.

"No, she probably doesn't have a problem with you but she suffers from dozens of irrational fears, one of which is xenophobia. The fear of strangers, and you fit the bill."

"Oh, well then Miss. Dutch, I am Johnny C." Mr. C. had appeared to have had a complete emotinal change, he appeared to no longer be angry and sounded like I was going to be his brand new friend.

For some reason, that sent a shiver down my spine, and I felt like a god had just shook it's head in disapointment. Like my life had just changed and the entirity of existance had given up on me.

"Mr. C? Your theripist will see you now."

"Oh, ok, I'll be sure to meet you again Miss Dutch." The steady footsteps of Mr. C. went away and I stayed in my hard plastic chair for who knows how long before I was able to move again. And then I left, promising myself that I would never return to that place again.

It was scary to think that someone wanted to find me again.

**I don't really think that I wrote Nny right, so someone tell me what I should have done.**


End file.
